A very familiar tape recorder emerges, to everyone's disappointment. With the same, famous click, it starts to play.

*roll U2's sexy slow version of the Mission Impossible theme*

‘Good morning, team. As you may or may not know, the world of performing arts is currently in a state of ferment. Someone or a few someones are taking songs of playwrights and mangling them with shoddy lyrics.’

‘Although the results are hilarious, it is also wrong and we at the Impossible Missions Foundation have to put a stop to it. That’s where you come in. Your unique mixture of talents will be invaluable in this enterprise. You will first have to find out who is committing these crimes against humanity and then bring them to justice. Or bring justice upon them, then find out who they are. Whatever.

As always, if you or any member of your Impossible Missions Force are captured and made to go to the local Balai, the director will disavow any and all knowledge of your hamsup activities. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds.’

Then it starts to burn, smoke curling from underneath the little box as flames start up inside.

‘AIYA!!! FIRE!!' From out of nowhere, plink dashes in and dumps a bucketful of cold water over the smoky, tangled mess.